


Lazy Lover

by banshee_in_the_dark



Series: Lazy Lover Series [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia has trouble falling asleep, so Stiles gives her a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Lover

Lydia rolls on her back and glares at her ceiling. Next to her, Stiles stirs and sleepily inches closer to her. “Still awake?” he asks, eyes firmly shut and voice thick with slumber. He had no trouble sleeping, not at all. Lucky bastard.

“Yeah,” she whines, exhaling a frustrated puff of air through her nose and stubbornly folding her arms over her chest.

It’s ridiculous. She is  _so_  tired, exhausted really, and yet try as she might, she could not for the life of her get a good night sleep.

They are all dealing with a great deal of trauma. Scott spends a lot of time with Deaton and tries his best to compartmentalize his emotions, working through his grief by wolfing out and spending his nights running through the woods howling at the moon until he tires himself out and passes out under the cover of the stars.

Stiles, ironically, has a better time of it when he sleeps rather than when he’s awake. His guilt doesn’t eat at him when he’s dreaming and Lydia doesn’t know if it’s just the universe’s way of bringing balance but after suffering through his night terrors, being unable to tell dreams from reality and then living through the actual nightmare of having your body controlled by a foreign and evil entity, he’s not experiencing any nightmares. He actually slept for thirty six uninterrupted hours after Void was trapped in the Nemeton box, and then went extreme makeover on his bedroom stripping everything from it until all that remained where two pictures, one of his mom and another of him and Scott in full lacrosse gear sitting in the benches, and Lydia’s framed drawing. Everything else was thrown away, including his bed.

On the other end of the spectrum, Lydia can’t sleep. She is constantly tired but it takes hours for exhaustion to win out and finally doze off. But even when she does sleep, it’s in fitful spells. She would still be somewhat aware of her environment and she would have the constant, never ending feeling of starting to enter a deep sleep but without ever reaching it. The lightest of noises startle her awake she wakes up feeling like she hasn’t rested at all. She doesn’t need to be a genius to know she’s stuck on N-REM and has trouble progressing to the much needed REM cycle.

“Want me to rub your back?” Stiles lifts himself up, supporting his weight on his elbow as he leans into her a bit. Lydia’s heart does an involuntary jump. “Seemed to help last night.”

It  _did_. It was the only thing that had actually worked, really. She’s tried to meditate but she’s far too impatient and anxious, warm milk only makes her want to throw up , and a bubble bath right before bed had the exact opposite effect of relaxation and left her even more alert and hypersensitive to sounds around her. Deaton recommended she try Valerian tea, and when that didn’t work either he finally suggested they tap into the power of their tether by sleeping in the same room, though physical contact was greatly advised as it made it flow stronger. Having Stiles close at hand while she slept would ground her and allow her to shut down completely, and since he didn’t have a bed anymore, well it was a win-win situation.

Except they’ve kind of been sleeping together for a while now, since Allison’s funeral. It’s not like they planned it or anything, they just gravitate to one another without realizing and before they know it he has his arms protectively around her and her arms circle his waist tightly, practically cuddling for all to see. But it’s good. They find comfort in their touch, it’s completely innocent and friendly and  _maybe_ bordering on symbiotic, but it helps.

If not blissful slumber, Lydia at least finds peace in Stiles’ arms when he held her close at night, and she can almost  _feel_  some of the terrible guilt he carries drain away when he’s with her.

“It only worked for about two hours though,” she says, her bare foot absentmindedly rubbing against the underside of his calf. “Unless you don’t mind me waking you up in a couple of hours to do it again?”

He gives her a self-conscious smile. “I wouldn’t mind.” His eyes are a pale amber-gold in the dim moonlight filtering through her curtains, but they are sincere. “Or…” he drawls, shifting to get his arm from under the covers and depositing it in the space between them. “There’s one thing I don’t think you’ve tried.”

“What’s that?” Lydia stifles a yawn, eyelid dropping lazily. Maybe he’ll talk to her until she falls asleep. She can’t think of nothing better than listening to his smooth, even voice as he lulls her under.

“Well, I personally find that self-gratification is an excellent way to relax.”

Lydia frowns. “Self-gr—?  _No_ ,” she gasps. “I don’t do that!” she whisper-shouts.

“Everybody does it. Even girls,” Stiles insists, completely calm and straight-faced while she’s internally freaking out.

“Not this girl,” Lydia protests pursing her lips and simultaneously feeling herself blush. She thanks her lucky stars that he can’t see her in the dark.

“Really?” his eyes widen comically. “Like, never?  _Why?_  It’s awesome!”

“I just –it’s not the same okay?” She huffs. “It doesn’t feel as good and I’m not particularly great at it so I only end up frustrated and disappointed. Pass.”

His eyes bore into hers with an intensity she’s never seen before.

“I could—” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows convulsively, eyes darting to her lips as he licks his own. “I could totally like, do it for you.”

She’s tempted to redirect his attention back to the point she just made about not wanting to be left frustrated and disappointed and thanks, but no thanks, but she catches herself staring mesmerizingly at his hand curling in her purple sheets. Those hands of his were very talented when he rubbed her back the night before (hm, it was more like a full body massage but now is not the time to get technical) and while he didn’t turn her on that time, he wasn’t too far behind and had actually left her curious if she’s honest with herself.

But he’s her friend. Her best friend, actually. Dare she risk it?

“I uh,” her voice shakes. She’s in bed with Stiles Stilinski and he’s offering to make her come. How is this even her life? “I don’t know…” she finally manages to say, hesitatingly.

“Lyds,” He rasps, his large warm hand caressing her bare arm.

“Okay,” she surprises herself saying. There’s no time to changer mind though.

He settles flush against her and lowers his face to hers, so close Lydia can feel his hot breath on her skin. He draws his mouth to hers in the lightest brushing of lips imaginable, relaxing her, coaxing her, his tongue darting between her lips licking delicately at the roof of her mouth. The kiss deepens, turns hard and demanding, making Lydia’s heart pound madly against her ribs.

Stiles breaks the kiss and pushes her until she’s flat on her back with him looming over her. His knuckles travel softly from her cheek, down her neck until his palm settles comfortably between her breasts, leaving a hot tingling sensation on its wake. His eyes burns with need and he gives her a little half smile before he buries his face in the crook of her neck and plants hot open mouthed kisses there, nibbling and biting and soothingly licking over the sensitive skin. At the same time, he cups her breast, massaging gently and teasing her nipple with the pad of his thumb until the poor tortured nub peaks against her top. All coherent thought is driven from her mind as he slants his mouth back on hers and pinches and tugs at her nipple. Each motion of his long, talented fingers sends sparks of electricity from the tips of her breasts straight to the point between her legs where she’s becoming increasingly and undeniably wet.

She moans against his lips, faint with desire. What is this boy doing to her? He’s only just kissing her and fondling her a bit and he’s got her ready to combust for Christ’s sake.

He pays the same attention to her other breast and when he’s sufficiently satisfied with his work there –coincidentally, when Lydia’s moans have escalated to obscene heights and she’s writhing and panting under him- Stiles moves his hand further south, slowly, so slowly she wants to scream. He reaches the hem of her top and lingers there. He’s barely an inch away from her mound. His pinky finger taps teasingly on the edge of her panties, but just when she thinks he’s finally going to dive in, he slips under her top and slithers his hand back up burning hot against her flesh and proceeds to maul her breasts all over again.

She can’t help it. She sobs. This has literally never happened to her. She’s had sex, she’s been sufficiently pleasured and has never had much round to complain to her partners. But what Stiles is doing to her right now is just cruel. And she loves it.

“Stiles,” she whispers impatiently, her heart beating so fast it practically shakes her entire body.

He gives her a wolfish grin, pushes her top up and off and moves to pepper soft, teasing little kisses on her chest. Her legs fall open instantly for him when his finger teases the seam of her tightly pressed thighs, and his big, nimble hand runs slowly up and down her inner thigh. A long finger gently traces the triangle of her panties, prying a strangled moan from her as he traces a line down her center, stroking her clit and feeling the wetness under the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful Lyds,” he murmurs, giving a low groan when his fingers slip under the edge of her panties and they’re greeted by soft, bare skin, velvety folds and warm juices.

“Stiles, please,” she whines breathlessly.

“Shhh,” he rubs her soothingly, brushing his fingertips along her entrance.

He strokes along one side of her clit, making Lydia jump and gasp. He chuckles, the bastard.

“Like that?” he murmurs through a half-lidded smile. The smug, bewildered expression on his face would be completely unattractive, if it weren’t for the fact that he deserves to feel smug, he’s  _earned_  it dammit. He’s only just began. He literally spent more time preparing her than all her past lovers combined and she has no doubts he intends to take his time to make her come and even if she just wants it  _now_ , Lydia knows instinctively it’s going to be so good she might not regain use of her motor functions for a while.

Stiles cups her pussy, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit. With a low moan, she thrust against his hand, rubbing hard, seeking relief from the unrelenting desire he’d stoked inside her.

“Patience, Lydia,” he scolds playfully, steals a too brief kiss from her and dives his head to her chest. His lips latch onto her left nipple and he sucks the entire nub inside his mouth, lathering it insistently with the flat of his tongue. Down south, he slips two fingers inside her pussy lips and brackets her swollen clit, moving his hand up and down in precise movements designed to drive her crazy, giving her the stimulation she so desperately needs but not enough to push her over the edge.

She works her hips against him. Stiles utters a hoarse curse against the creamy mound of her breast and bites down sharply on her nipple.

At last, Lydia tips over the edge. The orgasm violently whips through her with an intensity she’s never experienced. It’s too much to hold it inside so she screams as the waves of pleasure wash through her and she floats in a sea of pure ecstasy.

Stiles moves them until she’s on her side with him spooning her, resting her head over his arm. He twins their fingers together and doesn’t seem to mind at all Lydia is too far gone to reciprocate the mind numbing pleasure he gave her.

They sleep just like that, for hours. It’s the first time in weeks Lydia dreams such sweet dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I can turn this into a series if you guys are interested :) And you can follow me on Tumblr if you'd like (I'm bansheeinthedark)


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